


Through the years

by InfinityUndone



Category: No Straight Roads (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Depression, Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Military Backstory, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Orphanage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Robotics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinityUndone/pseuds/InfinityUndone
Summary: A look at Neon J's life, and how he grew over the years from a lonely child, to a soldier fighting a war, to a cyborg, to 1010's manager.
Comments: 27
Kudos: 77





	1. Age 10

**Author's Note:**

> Since the chapters will be shorter than a lot of my other works, expect this to update frequently. Enjoy!

The boy who would become Neon J watched tearfully as his parents' graves were filled with dirt.

Only two days ago, they were alive. They had sent him off to school with a hug from his father, a kiss from his mother, and a promise to take him out for ice cream later if he did well on his math test. He had gotten a perfect score, but when he had come home later that day, he found the police waiting for him.

They said it was a car crash. They said the brakes failed and sent them off the bridge and into the ravine. They said they died on impact.

It had taken the funeral for him to believe them. Once he had seen the caskets sitting side-by-side at the front of the room, it finally hit him. He was an orphan.

And now, he had no one. The only family he had left were several distant relatives living halfway across the world with no clue he even existed, and a senile grandmother who could barely take care of herself, let alone a child.

So when the funeral ended, he would be uprooted from the community he’d lived in his entire life, and sent to an orphanage.

He didn’t want to. It would mean leaving his friends, his school, and everything he’d ever known behind. But what choice did he have? He was just a child.

The burial ended. The onlookers slowly left. He stayed there, staring miserably at the shared gravestone of his parents.

He didn’t hear it when his name was said, but he looked up when he felt the hand on his shoulder.

An older woman, with motherly gray eyes looked sympathetically down at him. “It’s time to go.” she said softly.

“Yeah.” he muttered, and turned away from the graves.

He had met her the day before. Her name was Iris, and she worked at the orphanage he would be brought to. 

He went to get the suitcases carrying his clothes and the possessions he couldn’t bear to give up. They were loaded into the back of the car. And before he knew it, he was sitting in the backseat, watching through the window as the town that was no longer his home grew smaller and smaller behind them.

The drive was a long one. Iris tried to make him feel better by telling him that the orphanage wasn't as bad as he was imagining it to be. “You’ll have plenty of other children to play with.” she said, “Don’t think of it as an orphanage, think of it as a new home.”

He tried, but he really didn’t want to. The drive felt like it took days. Eventually though, the car pulled into a long driveway.

When he got out, he found himself looking up at a large wooden house, with children playing in the yard. They stared at him in curiosity, and he tried not to look back.

“Come along, I’ll show you to your room.” Iris said kindly, beckoning him to follow.

He did. Whether he liked it or not, this was his new home for the foreseeable future, so he might as well get used to it.


	2. Age 18

The young man who would become Neon J threw his bags into the back of his car.

His eighteenth birthday had been a few days ago, and now it was time for him to leave the orphanage and make his own way in the world. Truthfully, a part of him didn’t want to leave. The eight years he had spent there were mostly happy ones. It had taken a while for him to settle in when he got there, but eventually he had bonded with the other kids at the orphanage. The ones that were close in age to him became some of his closest friends, and the younger kids thought of him as an older brother.

But Iris had said he could drop by anytime to see them, and he wasn’t going far. He had a job lined up in town, and he was excited.

He hugged Iris goodbye, thanking her for taking care of him for the last eight years. He waved goodbye to the children, and then he was driving away.

It wasn’t a long drive. He pulled in front of a small shop on the town’s main street. It was a shop he had often begged to go to when he was younger, and seeing it now still brought back a feeling of nostalgia.

The toy store was where he would be living and working. The owner, an old man named Ruben, had agreed to take him in as an apprentice.

This was honestly his dream job. He had always been good with his hands. At the orphanage, he was the one to go to if someone needed their bike or toys fixed.

A couple months ago, when he’d mentioned he was looking for a job, Ruben had told him “Are you now? Well, it’d be nice to get someone to help out in the shop. My back isn’t what it used to be, and I need someone to do the heavy lifting. What do you say, boy? I can give you a wage and the room above the shop, and train you to make toys.”

He had jumped at the offer. “Of course! Thank you, Mr Ruben, sir! You’re so kind!”

“Don’t call me Mr, or sir. I figured you’d take the offer. All those times you’d bring a group of kids in, and spend the whole time just watching me work…”

When he got out of his car, he saw his girlfriend Raina standing outside the shop waiting for him. She gave him a kiss on the cheek when he got to her. “So? How’d it go?”

He kissed her back. “It felt weird to leave.” he admitted. "But hey, I can visit anytime, right?"

She helped him get his things inside, where Ruben was waiting. “Your room is upstairs.” he said gruffly. “Come see me when you’re done, we’ve got some things to talk about.”

When they got upstairs, Raina sighed. “I know Ruben said it needed fixing-up, but _yikes_. Look at all the dust!”

“Well, I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to live here,” he said. “Let’s get cleaning.”

They dusted and swept and washed the room until it shone. Then, they unpacked his things.

When they were done, he looked around the room. It wasn’t much, but it was his new home. And he loved it.


	3. Age 22

The young man who would become Neon J stared down at the paper in his hand. He’d known this day would come, it was only a question of when. But now that it was here, he’d realized how much he’d dreaded it.

“What’s that letter, boy?” Ruben asked as he was closing the store for the day.

“I’ve been drafted.” The words felt unreal coming out of his mouth.

“Oh.” was all Ruben could say.

Why did this have to happen now? His life was going so well. He and Raina were considering getting their own place together, Ruben was talking about giving him the store…

And now that war had broken out, he was getting ripped away from all of that, without a choice.

“When d’you have to report for duty?”

“Next week.” So little time…

“Ah. Well, you’ll do fine, boy. You’re a smart and strong lad. I survived a war in my day, you can too.” Ruben patted him on the shoulder.

“I can’t just leave you here to run the store alone.”

“Don’t see that you’ve got much choice about it. I ran this place alone for years before you came along, I’ll manage.”

He wasn’t so sure. Ruben’s age had really started getting to him in the last couple of years, to the point where he now needed a cane.

“I need to tell Raina.” he muttered.

“Aye, go find her. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He left the shop and started walking to Raina’s house. It was a beautiful evening, with the sunset painting the sky gold and orange. Any other night, he would have loved to go on a romantic walk with her. But all he could think about was that this was the last week he would have with her for a while… or maybe ever.

Some of his friends had already been drafted. He wondered if he would see them in the war. Dark visions of them lying dead on a battlefield ran through his mind, and he forced them away.

Before he knew it, he was at Raina’s front door. Her mother answered it, and sent him around to the backyard, where she was.

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” she remarked when she saw him. Then she saw his face. “Is something wrong?”

“I-I’ve been drafted.” he said, holding out the letter. He hadn’t even realized it was still clutched in his fist until that moment.

Raina turned pale. “What? When?”

“I have to leave next week.”

Raina gave a quiet sob and rushed into his arms. For a long time, they just held each other.

Then, they sat in the yard, watching in silence as the sun sank beneath the horizon.

“Are you scared?” she asked quietly.

“I’m terrified.” he admitted.

They sat for a while longer.

“Can I ask you something? If you weren’t drafted, would you still sign up to go?”

He thought for a long moment. “I think I would. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d still do it. But getting drafted… takes that decision away.”

“It would be a tough decision.”

“Yeah, but it would still be mine to make.”

The moon was rising by this point.

Raina turned to face him, a determined look on her face. “Well, whatever happens, I want you to know… that I will wait for you. While you’re in the army. I’ll write to you every week. I’ll send you stuff. I’ll check on Ruben while you’re gone, I’ll drop by the orphanage, and when you come back, you’ll find me here, ready to pick up where we left off.”

“You don’t have to do all that.” he said softly.

“I _want_ to do all that.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay. But I want you to know that if I don’t come back, I want you to move on. I want you to be happy, and to find love, and not just wait for me forever. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They took each other’s hands, leaned into one another, and watched the moon rise, wondering what would come next for them.


	4. Age 23

The soldier who would become Neon J sat on his bunk, reading the letter Raina sent him.

True to her word, she’d sent him a letter every week. She told him everything that was happening back home, even if it wasn’t much.

In this letter, she told him that Ruben had gotten his grandkids a summer job to help at the shop, Iris was working hard to take care of the newest arrivals at the orphanage, and the entire town was joining in the war effort.

The news brought a smile to his face. It wouldn’t stop him from worrying about them, but it made him feel a little better.

It also made him forget, just for a little bit, about what was going to happen tomorrow.

Their training was complete. He and all the other young men with him had been forged into soldiers, ready to join the battle. They were getting deployed tomorrow, and would be at the front lines by next week.

The idea scared him, and he knew it scared everyone else too, even if they’d never admit it. The idea of his own death scared him, the idea of seeing all of the friends he’d made here die too scared him more.

It felt like a lifetime since he’d seen home, even though he’d only been gone for a few months. He wondered if he’d ever see it again.

Time would see all his questions answered.


	5. Age 25

The captain who would become Neon J looked proudly at the medal freshly pinned to his chest.

The last two years of the war had been hellish. He’d seen some horrible things. He’d watched men he knew be killed horribly, their cries and screams burning into his mind.

It had threatened to break him, at first. But over time, he’d gotten used to it, something that scared him a little. Did that make him a cruel person, to witness so much suffering and not have it in him to react?

He didn’t know, until he’d brought it up with one of his comrades who was in the same boat.

 _“I think that if you can realize that, it doesn’t make you a bad person. I mean, there’s only so much awful stuff one person can see before they get kinda numb to it. And you don’t enjoy seeing it, and you don’t enjoy doing it, so you’re not cruel by nature. It’s war, it does horrible shit to everyone.”_ were his exact words.

The guy who’d brought him a bit of comfort with his words had died the following day when a grenade landed at his feet.

Yet despite all the blood and death and loss, his experience over the last couple of years hadn’t been all bad. There had been triumphant victories, exhilarating feats, and friendships that he would stand by until the end.

And now this. For his actions in their last battle, leading the disorganized troops to victory after the death of their commanding officer, he’d been named captain. And he’d gotten a shiny medal, too. The medal was nice, but what really excited and unnerved him was his new rank.

It was now his job to command his men to victory. They would look to him for guidance and direction on the battlefield. He would not let them down. He _could_ not let them down.

They were his comrades, his friends, his brothers-at-arms. And he would lay down his life for them, just as he knew they would do the same for him if it came to that.

He hoped it wouldn’t.


	6. Age 28

Neon J stared at the hospital ceiling with eyes he didn’t have anymore.

Gone. All of them. Hewie, Zim, H, Elo… they were all dead. He was the only survivor of his entire squadron.

Well, survivor was a strong word. He’d been clinically dead for a while. And then he’d been revived by the military scientists. He was the only one whose body was intact enough to save. Which was saying something, considering he now had prosthetic limbs and a computerized head.

It had been eight months since the missile hit the base they were in, killing everyone and reducing him to this sorry state.

A part of him wished they hadn’t been able to save him, that he’d died alongside his men.

Of the eight months he’d been in the hospital, being revived and rebuilt, he only remembered five of them. The first three months of being here were dark shadows in his memory, blotting out terrible experiences he didn’t want to remember. His nightmares, though… they remembered, and he routinely woke up screaming.

The mirror across the room taunted him. It had been months before he’d been able to look into it. That stupid radar monitor that served as his head now looked blankly back at him.

He wiggled his robotic fingers. The scientists had told him that his new body was better in every way. Slower to tire, stronger and faster, incredible computing power, and tricked out with all kinds of ways to kill his enemies.

He didn’t want any of it. He wanted his flesh and blood back. He wanted to be at peace. He wanted to go home.

Home… but could he really go home? The scientists had told him that his old identity was gone. It had been declared legally dead. His old name had been replaced with a new one.

That meant everyone back home thought he was dead. He imagined Raina and Iris sobbing together, and Ruben quietly boxing up the things he’d left in the shop apartment. They would get together, hold a memorial for him, and then try to go on with their lives.

Maybe it was for the best that they thought he was dead. The man he had been certainly was. Now though, he didn’t know what he was.

He’d been a man once. He’d been able to smile and blink and style his hair. He’d been handsome once. Now, he was a screen.

Was he just a war machine? An AI put into an empty shell? How much of him was left? Was he even a man anymore?

He hated it. Hated his new body and identity, hated the people who’d done this to him, hated the war, all of it. He envied those who died, and got to find peace in death.

And yet, he couldn’t just leave.

The war still had to be fought. He’d watched so many people die for their cause, he couldn’t just let their deaths be in vain. He had to see the war through, whether he liked it or not. What more could he possibly lose?

Maybe there would be peace when he was done.


	7. Age 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: referenced self-harm.

Neon J stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

The war was over. He could scarcely believe it. At any moment, it felt like he would be called back to the field. He kind of wanted to be. It had given him purpose.

Now, though? He was alone. A machine without a directive to fulfill.

When they had gotten word that the war was over, he felt only relief and joy. That had quickly faded when he realized he had no clue what to do with his life now.

Without any better options, he’d gone back to his hometown. He didn’t expect to be able to pick up where he’d left off. He didn’t really want to see or talk to anyone, he just wanted a familiar place to live quietly.

But after almost a decade of being gone, the place had changed.

Ruben had died last year. The toy shop was boarded up and empty, dust lining the shelves.

He’d known before returning that Ruben was dead, but he hadn’t quite believed it until he’d seen the closed down shop. If he closed his “eyes”, he could still hear the laughter and excitement of the children that went in to look at the toys.

The laughter turned to screams and shouts of war in his mind, and he quickly shook the thought off.

Raina was still in town. She had gotten married.

He wasn’t angry, she had followed his advice to move on if he didn’t come back. He hadn’t written to her or anything after his “death”, so she had no way of knowing he was alive. But it did sting.

It was probably for the best. If she had waited for him, there was no resuming their relationship where they left off. He was a changed person from the young man who’d left nearly a decade ago, both physically and mentally. Could she even be able to love a shell-shocked cyborg? He wouldn’t blame her if the answer was no.

Iris was still running the orphanage, but he didn’t want to find her. If he told her who he really was, would she even believe him?

So, he bought himself a house, and shut himself inside. It was a decent house, albeit without much furniture or decorations, and there was enough space for a robotics lab in the basement.

Curious neighbors swung by to give him housewarming gifts, but he didn’t answer the door. He didn’t leave to get groceries, the need to eat or drink was something his cybernetics got rid of. The only times he ever left the house were at night, when the neighborhood was dark and quiet. He would get the mail, or sit in the backyard for some fresh air. He never left his property, though.

The first thing he did when he moved in two months ago was set up the robotics lab, and remove all of the “modifications” in his body. He ripped out the guns and grenades and flashbangs built into his arms, the rocket boots in his legs, all of it. When he was done, his robotic limbs were just regular prosthetics. It took a weight off his mind, knowing that he wouldn’t accidentally hurt someone or burn the house down if he had one of his episodes.

That was another reason he wanted to be alone. The memories came swift and brutal, overwhelming him. Every night, they tormented him in his sleep. He couldn’t control it. Sometimes, he would just be doing something completely mundane, and then he would be back on the battlefield, listening to gunfire and explosions and screaming.

Sometimes, he would wake up from these flashbacks to find he’d hurt himself. He didn’t think he could live with it if he hurt someone else. So, he stayed in his house, trying to heal in solitude to protect everyone from himself.

Maybe one day, he’d be able to control it and rejoin society. But that day wouldn’t come for a while.


	8. Age 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: references to addiction and suicide

Neon J waved to the kid as he ran out the door. “Thanks, mister!” the boy said as he left to show off his newly-bought toy car to his friends.

The toy shop was thriving again. Buying it had been the best decision he’d ever made. It gave him a steady stream of work, a way to get used to peacetime, and something he enjoyed to keep him occupied. Just what he needed.

It had taken him over a year of hiding away before he felt well enough to even start leaving his house during the day, and longer than that before he wanted to start socializing again.

The first person he talked to since returning from the war was Iris.

He hadn’t expected her to believe him when he told her who he was, but she did.

 _“You-you’re alive?!”_ she’d gasped in shock.

 _“Yes, I…”_ he’d began, and then he’d broken down into sobs.

Iris had hugged him, and they talked for hours after that, about everything that happened to him over the last decade. It helped him a lot, finally getting it off his chest.

After that talk, he’d decided to buy the toy shop and reopen it. He did it all himself, from cleaning it up to restocking it. And now, it was doing fine. The kids in town were overjoyed to have it back.

Iris brought the orphans by every so often. She sometimes came by his house for a visit, just to see how he was doing.

And sometimes, Raina would come to the toy shop, with her husband and their son.

He didn’t tell her who he really was, and if she’d guessed, she never let on. He didn’t think she knew, however. Iris was the only person he’d told of his former identity, and she respected his wish to keep it a secret.

It was for the best, he told himself. Telling Raina who he was would only bring them both unnecessary pain. They’d both moved on with their lives.

Even so, seeing her with her family hurt a little. In some other, kinder version of events, it would be him she had married, and his son running along behind them.

But there was nothing he could do.

The toy shop, though, was healing him. It gave him an outlet for his buried pain and tormented thoughts. When the nightmares kept him up at night, he would go and to his toy workshop to calm himself down. The moments where the memories of what he’d seen overwhelmed him were less and less frequent now that he had something to focus on other than his experiences in the war. He needed the shop, it kept him from hiding away forever.

He’d heard from some of the other survivors of the war, and what his old comrades were doing now. Some had adjusted to peacetime and were living normal lives. Some hadn’t been able to deal with the lasting pain, and were taking it out on their families, or doing what he had done and hidden away. Some had turned to drugs or alcohol to numb the pain. Some had been driven to end it all.

He was sure he’d be fine, though. The memories would never go away, but he had learned to deal with them and force himself not to remember. He just needed work, something to keep himself busy and distracted from the bad thoughts that plagued him.

Maybe, with the toy shop, he could live a peaceful life.


	9. Age 40

Neon J took a last look at the toy shop, or rather, the empty building where the toy shop had once been. Selling it had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.

But he didn’t have much of a choice. It was bleeding money and his financial situation was dire. It was either keep the shop and go bankrupt, or sell it and have enough cash left to take care of himself. Maintaining his robotic parts weren’t cheap, after all.

The town was dying, that much was certain. Job prospects were drying up, people were moving out to bigger opportunities left and right, and the few that were left were all having trouble making enough money to live on.

The toy shop had gotten into trouble once a lot of the families started leaving. The few that were left didn’t have much money to spare to buy toys. And with Iris’s passing the year before, the orphanage had closed down and the kids there were all sent into the foster care system, meaning there were even less kids in the town than usual.

He had tried desperately to keep the shop going. He cut prices as far down as he possibly could. He sold his house and moved into the second floor of the shop. He got rid of every piece of equipment he didn’t absolutely need.

But it just wasn’t enough. Eventually, he had to admit to himself it was a lost cause.

So with a heavy heart, he sold the toy shop. He now had just enough money to decide what to do next.

He couldn’t really stay in the town. He didn’t really want to stay in the town, for that matter. Iris, the woman who raised him for eight years and who he thought of as a second mother, was dead. Raina had moved away with her husband and their children, and he didn’t know where. The few other people he knew were all leaving or considering it. With the toy shop gone, he didn’t have much reason to stay.

But where to go?

He needed work, that much he knew. Work was what kept him calm. He could go back into the toy industry, but he didn’t have enough money to open a shop of his own in another place.

So he started checking job listings in the region. Surely, there was somewhere he could go…

 _Vinyl City_. The name caught his attention. He’d heard some weird things about that place, like that it was a city powered entirely by music, however that was possible.

And according to the listings, the company that ran the place was looking for roboticists.

It was a good opportunity, and the job was for something he wanted to do. Whether it was toy-making or robots, it would be something to keep him financially stable and busy.

He made up his mind, packed up his belongings, and took one last drive around the town before leaving.

Once again, he would be leaving it, but this time it was by choice. In a way, that felt worse. Leaving the place he’d spent so many years, more of which were good than bad, wasn’t a good feeling. He would miss it dearly, but it was time to move on.

And so, he drove away from the town he considered home.


	10. Age 46

Neon J had lived in Vinyl City for six years now, and it wasn’t a bad place to live. He’d been apprehensive about living in a city before coming here, but it was better than he’d expected. He’d quickly gotten used to the noise of cars and people and music. And he liked his new job.

He worked for NSR now, in their science department, and had quickly been given a higher rank because of his former experience building tech during the war. Most of his job was building new robots and machines for the city. It didn’t bring him quite as much satisfaction as making toys had, but the work was enjoyable, so it evened out a bit. And it kept him calm.

On this particular day, he was rewiring a faulty robot, when he heard a knock at the door. Looking up, he saw one of his workers, an enthusiastic young woman named Sienna.

“Neon J, you _have_ to come see what the guys pulled out of that abandoned military base.” she said excitedly.

They’d been excavating the old base for a week now, and he was surprised they’d found anything. “What is it?” he asked, setting his work down.

“I don’t know, some kind of machine. It’s what’s inside that’s really cool.”

He followed her outside to where everyone was gathered around a large, cylindrical machine. It had obviously been abandoned for a while, given how rust and dingy it looked. There was some kind of port on the top that a couple of the workers were looking inside.

“Hey, boss!” one of them called when they saw him. “Come take a look!”

When he got to the machine and looked inside, he saw what he thought was just scrap metal. But on closer inspection, it was…

“Unfinished war androids?” he said aloud.

“And they’re in pristine condition.” Sienna marveled.

They pulled out the five androids to get a closer look. The machine had protected them from rust, but they were in an incomplete state. Their shiny metal bodies had wires and circuitry still visible, and some were obviously missing parts.

“Weird. Why’d they just abandon those?” one of the workers wondered.

“Maybe they ran out of money to get them finished. Or the war ended.” suggested Sienna.

Kneeling down for a closer look, he realized that he recognized these androids. They were part of a project to create _“The perfect soldier”_. A project he’d been a minor part of. He’d looked over the designs for them, and given his feedback.

That had been on the tail-end of the war, and the androids had never seen combat. He knew for a fact they had been ordered dismantled after the war, but he didn’t know why. As to why these ones were still around, he had even less knowledge.

He did know the machine’s purpose: it was to mass produce the androids. If one fell in battle, it could quickly be replaced with another. He’d been skeptical about this design, stating it would be far too easy for the enemy to just destroy the machine to stop it from making new androids. But it seemed they had gone ahead with that idea.

He straightened up. “Bring the androids and the machine to my lab. I want to study them.” he ordered.

His workers obliged, and some time later, he was looking over the mechanical marvels.

The machine was complete, and would be easy to clean up. The androids, in their unfinished forms, would be harder to get running. They would need a lot of work put into them.

However, he felt it would be worth it. They were incredibly sophisticated pieces of machinery, and they were very technologically advanced even years after their initial creation. They had some very high-quality materials in their build, bodies that could take wear and tear, and sustainable energy cores, something he’d _never_ seen before. Whoever had made them had gone all-out.

But what to do with them? Most of the robots he made were for public service use, but that felt like it would be wasted on these. They could do so much more… but what?

He leaned back in his chair and wondered what to do, when he saw the latest edition of Vinyl City Daily (which his coworkers teased him about still reading when he had a phone.) The headline caught his attention.

It was about a singer named Eve, how Tatiana, the CEO of NSR had recently made her the first of NSR’s megastars. Her music would bring electricity to the city and joy to the people’s hearts.

Staring at the androids lying on his worktable, he had an idea.


	11. Age 47

Neon J watched from behind the glass as 1010 finished their recording of their latest song.

The last year and a half had been a whirlwind of planning and building and songwriting and learning how to run a robotic boy band. Which wasn’t easy.

It had taken him a few months to get them working and programmed right. Honestly, he considered it one of his greatest achievements. When the first one, who he’d nicknamed White, had come online and worked perfectly, it’d been the most exciting moment of his career. Blue, Red, Yellow, and Green had followed over the course of the next few months.

Then he had to train them to sing and perform. He did the bulk of making the music, but they were still the ones who had to sing it. Their programming allowed them to pick up the complicated moves with ease.

He had decided on the name 1010 for the group, based on the date they’d been discovered in the military base, October tenth.

And with all that done, he signed them up for the Lights-Up audition, a contest NSR held every year to find new artists for the company.

1010 had killed it out there, won the contest and gotten signed on to NSR. The newest district in Vinyl City, the Metro Division, was now under their jurisdiction. When they first got it, it was a crappy, failing part of town, with crumbling streets, struggling shops, and tons of power issues. Now, it was a thriving metropolis, filled with gleaming roads and the technological hub of the city.

Moving to a huge city, becoming manager to a robotic boy band and transforming a district was a life path he never thought he’d take, but he was glad he did. Who knew all of that could be so satisfying?

And now, 1010 had a steadily growing fanbase, concerts that were raking in both attendees and Qwasa power, and a district that was doing great.

1010 came out of the sound booth and stood at attention. “Sir! How was our performance, sir?” White asked.

When he was building them, he had decided they should have a military theme, mostly because he was familiar with it. “At ease! Excellent work, troops. I think we’re done for the day.”

“Your orders, sir?” Blue asked.

“No further orders, you’re free to go for the day.” he said.

“Sir, yes sir!” they called in autotuned unison, before marching out of the room.

When he checked on them later, four of them were in sleep mode to recharge. That was what they always did when they weren’t needed to perform. Green, however, was awake and looking at a book, which surprised him.

“Sir!” Green snapped to attention when he entered the room. “I apologize sir, I will go to sleep now!”

“What were you looking at?”

“It’s nothing sir, just a book. I’ll enter sleep mode now.”

“That’s not necessary.” he said. Green blinked in confusion at his words. “Your power has only decreased by five percent since this morning, a recharge isn’t absolutely needed.”

“Ah… well then, what do you want me to do?”

“Well, what was that book you were looking at?”

“I apologize if I wasn’t supposed to read it, but it caught my attention.” Green picked up the book. It was a collection of short stories about technology.

“You can read it. Reading isn’t something I’ll discourage.”

Green stared at the book for a moment, probably trying to figure out if reading it went against his programming. Finally, he asked “Are my orders to read it?”

“No. If you want to read it, then go ahead.”

Green thought for a moment longer before saying “Thank you, sir! I’ll read it now!”

“I hope you enjoy it, soldier.”

As he left for his workshop, he realized what might be happening. Was Green growing beyond his programming? If so, could the others do it too?

If that was the case, then why was he encouraging it? Robots were programmed to do a job and little else. As a roboticist, he knew this.

Why was he thinking of 1010 as real beings? They were machines, and should stay that way. And yet, there was something in him that was telling him it was wrong to not let them grow. Was that… affection?

No, no, no. Any affection he held towards 1010 were pride in himself for building them. Nothing else.

 _“They are machines, and that’s it.”_ he told himself.

When looking back on it, it was honestly comical how fast he'd later abandoned that way of thinking.


	12. Age 51

Neon J sped through the skies of Vinyl City on 1010’s factory, hoping he wasn’t too late.

The alert had sounded not long ago, telling him that the rock group Bunk Bed Junction were finally coming for 1010, like they had for the other NSR artists. He knew they just wanted musical freedom, but for god’s sake, did they have to destroy everything in their path to get it?

Sayu’s team was still trying to restore her. Yinu’s beloved piano had been brutally destroyed during the fight with those rockers. He could still hear the poor girl’s sobbing as she told them about it at the last NSR meeting. What kind of monsters smashed a child’s piano in front of her?

And DJ Subatomic Supernova, who was the first one Bunk Bed Junction went after, had just disappeared after the fight. For a while, everyone thought he had been killed. Thankfully, they’d been proven wrong last week, when the DJ fell back to Earth like a meteor and landed in the ocean.

And now they were after him and 1010. He knew this day would come, and had planned for it. He’d done everything short of shutting down the Metro Division. He’d upped security, programmed his robots with every protocol he could think of, upgraded 1010’s battle capabilities in case it came to that… the works.

And yet, they still came. They’d hijacked the concert and were currently beating up every robot between them and 1010. Judging from the live security footage, they weren’t getting slowed down.

“Shit!” he cursed before contacting 1010. **“Troops! Alert!”**

 **“Have they gotten past security?”** White asked.

**“Yes. I’m on my way, but it’ll take time. It may come to a fight.”**

**“We can take them!”** Red declared hotly.

**“Troops, do _not_ underestimate them. They’ve fought and won against three of the five other megastars, and if we’re not careful that number will become four. Now then, are your battle systems in working order?”**

**“Yes sir!”** all five of them said.

**“Good. I only need a few minutes before I get there with the factory. Try to hold out as long as you can.”**

**“What should we do when they actually get here?”** Yellow asked.

**“I want you to turn up the charm. There’s a chance you can make them too infatuated to fight. It’s not a high chance, but it’s worth a shot.”**

**“Isn’t that what Sayu tried to do? Before they pulled the plug on her?”** Blue said dryly.

 **“Do any of you have a better plan?”** he asked in exasperation.

**“No.”**

**“Stay where you are, hold the line, and try to talk them down. Over and out.”**

Putting his attention back on piloting the factory, he silently hoped he would get there in time.

If those arrogant punks harmed the boys…

He didn’t remember exactly when he’d stopped thinking of 1010 as machines. Maybe it was that time when White’s energy core malfunctioned and he’d toiled four sleepless days and nights to fix it. Or it could’ve been when Yellow had vanished, sending him nearly out of his mind with worry until he’d been found. Or maybe it was when Blue had talked to him for nearly an hour straight about how cool reptiles were and he’d realized they were becoming so much more than the singing machines he’d originally built.

Whenever it had been and whatever the cause, that way of thinking was long gone. To him, 1010 were people, not robots. They had personalities and interests and individuality. He had never expected that to happen. If it was the programming they were built with, some lines of code he added, or something else entirely, he didn’t know.

It didn't matter. What mattered was that they were his troops. His sons.

 **“Red alert! They’re here!”** White’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

 **“Assume battle positions!”** he ordered.

He was almost at their location, he could see the lights from the concert on the skyline. If they could just hold out until he got there, it would all be okay…

He flew over the concert just in time to see White blow up from the force of Bunk Bed Junctions attacks. The alert **MAN DOWN** flashed across his vision, and for a moment, he remembered the screams of dying men and the sounds of gunfire…

No. He couldn’t falter. He shoved the memories away, and piloted the factory over the stage, ready to fight.

He wouldn’t let these intruders take away everything he’d worked for.

As long as the flag of rhythm stood, Neon J would keep fighting.


End file.
